You'd fit right in

Today was a lot of the time in the car, and a lot of time on turnpikes and interstates, and was probably  the most unsightly and dangerous leg of my journey.  I cruised over the Verrazano Bridge and out of New York easily, but when the weather forecast turned from scattered thunderstorms to all day rain, things got a little hairy on the roads.  I saw an overturned semi just outside of Washington DC, in an accident so bad I prayed for the miracle of survival for whoever was driving that truck.  And in Virginia I saw a Sleepy's Mattress delivery truck run off the road and take out a highway sign and collide straight into a tree.  I'm generally a cautious and alert driver, but these conditions had me on edge for hours, and I arrived in Virginia two hours later than planned and completely exhausted.

Once I got out of the craziness and into the countryside, I was able to relax and start to really transition into vacation mode.  Hungry for lunch, but wanting some local flavor, I passed by all the roadside fast-food joints, hoping I could find something a little more homegrown.  Around 2:30, I finally hit it.  I saw a sign for the Brightwood General Store, and pulled aside.

I love a General Store, and this one sold everything from used books to local honey to The Settlers of Catan.  And they host a bluegrass jam on Tuesday nights, which draws over 100 people.

The guy behind the counter was welcoming and chatty while he made me a tuna sandwich on rye, and when I told him I drove from Brooklyn that morning, he asked me if I was in town for the wedding.  Apparently this weekend 200 Brooklyn folk are gathering for a wedding at a nearby winery, and Mr. General Store is catering the event.

I sat at the only table in the store as I ate my sandwich and was promptly chatted up by this sweet fellow, a horse trainer named Shel.  Shel told me stories about the stables he's worked at and the horses he'd come to love, and the people his work had connected him to.  

One girl named Leslie (also my sister's name), came to work with Shel at a stable when she was 7 years old, and continued to come every weekend to work with him through her college years.  Shel beamed as he told me that story.

When I told Shel that I was sorry to miss the Tuesday bluegrass jam, he said to me, "Girl, I really wish you lived here.  You'd fit right in."  Then he invited me to a sock hop.

After lunch I checked into my adorable little treehouse for the next two nights, and walked the grounds.  There's a pond with a canoe, a fire pit, a wood sauna.   

There's also the biggest spider I've ever seen right outside my front door who is currently weaving a web the size of a wall map.  So I've retreated into the treehouse with a bit of chocolate and red wine for the night, giving her some space to weave, in the hopes she doesn't try to eat me or ensnare me in her complicated web.

Here's what the sunset looks like where I am.

Tomorrow, I hike.